CHAPTER XXIIINGUA'S MOTHER
"And how do you like your grandfather? Is he good to you?" asked Mrs.Scammel on Sunday forenoon, as she sat on the porch beside her smalldaughter. Old Swallowtail did not usually go to his office on Sundays,but kept his room at the cottage and wrote letters. To-day, however, hehad wandered down the path and disappeared, and Nan and Ingua were bothglad to see him go.
"No," answered the child to both questions.
"You don't like him?"
"How can I, when he jes' sets an' glares at me ev'ry time he comes intothe house--'cept when he complains I ain't doin' my work proper? Itwere a sort o' mean trick o' yours, Marm, leavin' me here to slave ferthat ol' man while you was off in the cities, havin' a good time."
"Yes," said Nan, "I was frolicking with starvation until I got a job,and it was the sort of job that wouldn't allow having a child around.But since I've been making money I've sent Dad five dollars every week,for your clothes and board."
"You have?"
"Every week."
"Ten cents a week would pay for all the grub he gives me, an' thereain't a beggar in the county that sports the rags an' tatters I does.That new dress I had on las' night was the first thing in clothes he'sbought me for a year, and I guess I wouldn't have had that if MaryLouise hadn't told him he orter dress me more decent."
Nan's brow grew dark.
"I'll have it out with him for that," she promised. "What does he dowith his money, Ingua?"
"Salts it, I guess. I never see him have any. It's one o' themysteries, Marm. Mysteries is thick aroun' Gran'dad, an' folkssuspicion 'most anything about him. All I know is that he ain't nospendthrift. Once, when Ned Joselyn used to come here, there was lotsof money passed between 'em. I saw it myself. I helped pick it up,once, when they quarreled an' upset the table an' spilled things. Butsince Ned run ayray. Gran'dad's be'n more savin' than ever."
"Ingua," said Nan, thoughtfully, "I want you to tell me all you knowabout Ned Joselyn, from the time he first came here."
Ingua regarded her mother with serious eyes.
"All?" she inquired.
"Everything, little or big, that you can recollect."
"You'll stick to Gran'dad, won't ye?"
"That's what I'm here for. There are enemies on his trail and I mean tosave him."
"What's he done?"
"I've got to find that out. When I was here before, I knew he had somesecret interest to which he was devoted, but I was too indifferent tofind out what it was. Now I want to know. If I'm going to save him fromthe penalties of his crime I must know what the crime is. I think thisman Joselyn is mixed up with it in some way, so go ahead and tell meall you know about him."
Ingua obeyed. For more than an hour she earnestly related the story ofNed Joselyn, only pausing to answer an occasional question from hermother. When she came to that final meeting at Christmas week andJoselyn's mysterious disappearance, Nan asked:
"Do you think he killed him?"
"I was pretty sure of it till yest'day, when Josie told me a friend ofhers had seen him alive an' well."
"Josie O'Gorman?"
"No, Josie Jessup. She's the sewin'-girl over to Mary Louise's."
"I know; but that girl has more names than one. Do you know her verywell, Ingua?"
"She's my best chum," declared the child. "Josie's a dandy girl, an' Ilike her."
"Have you told her anything about your gran'dad?"
"A little," Ingua admitted, hesitating.
"See here," said Nan, scowling, "I'll put you wise. This red-headedJosie O'Gorman is a detective. She's the daughter of the man I work forin Washington--the assistant chief of the Department--and she is hereto try to land your gran'dad in jail. What's more, Ingua, she's likelyto do it, unless you and I find a way to head her off."
Ingua's face depicted astonishment, grief, disappointment. Finally shesaid:
"Gran'dad didn't murder Ned, for Josie herself told me so; so I can'tsee what he's done to go to jail for."
"He has counterfeited money," said Nan in a low voice.
"Gran'dad has?"
"So they say, and I believe it may be true. Josie has wired her fatherthat she's got the goods on Old Swallowtail and has asked that somebodybe sent to arrest him. I saw the telegram and made up my mind I'd getthe start of the O'Gormans. Dad won't run away. I've warned him theyare on his trail and he didn't make any reply. But I wouldn't besurprised if he's gone, this very day, to cover up his traces. He'sbright enough to know that if he destroys all evidence they can't proveanything against him."
She spoke musingly, more to herself than the child beside her, butIngua drew a deep sigh and remarked:
"Then it's all right. Gran'dad is slick. They'll hev to get up early inthe mornin' to beat him at his own game. But I wonder what he does withthe counterfeit money, or the real money he trades it for."
"I think I know," said her mother. "He's chucked a fortune into onecrazy idea, in which his life has been bound up ever since I canremember, and I suppose he tried counterfeiting to get more money tochuck away in the same foolish manner."
"What crazy idea is that?" inquired Ingua.
"I'll tell you, sometime. Just now I see your friend Josie coming, andthat's a bit of good luck. I'm anxious to meet her, but if she sees mefirst she won't come on." As she spoke she rose swiftly and disappearedinto the house. "Stay where you are, Ingua," she called from within ina low voice; "I don't want her to escape."
Josie was even now making her way across the stepping-stones. Presentlyshe ran up the bank, smiling, and plumped down beside Ingua.
"Top o' the morning to you," said she. "How did you enjoy your firstevening in society?"
"They were all very good to me," replied Ingua slowly, looking at herfriend with troubled eyes. "I had a nice time, but--"
"You were a little shy," said Josie, "but that was only natural. Whenyou get better acquainted with Mary Louise and the dear old Colonel,you'll--"
She stopped abruptly, for looking up she saw standing in the doorwayNan Shelley--by which name she knew her--who was calmly regarding her.The shock of surprise, for shock it surely was, seemed brief, foralmost instantly Josie completed her broken speech:
"When you know them better you'll feel quite at home in their society.Hello, Nan."
"What! Josie O'Gorman? You here?" with well-affected surprise.
"You know it. But how came _you_ here, Nan? Has Daddy sent you to helpme?"
"Help you! In what way?"
"Help me enjoy country life," said Josie, coloring at her slip.
"Why, I'm on a vacation. You don't seem to understand. I'm--Ingua'smother."
Josie's self-control wasn't proof against this second shock. Her blueeyes stared amazed. With a low exclamation she stood up and faced thewoman.
"Ingua's mother! You, Nan?"
"Just so," with a quiet smile.
"Then you ought to be ashamed of yourself," declared Josie withrighteous indignation. "You're one of the best paid women in theDepartment, and you've left your poor child here to starve and slavefor a wretched old--," she paused.
"Well, what is he?" asked Nan with tantalizing gentleness.
"An old skinflint, at the least. Shame on you, Nan! Ingua is a dearlittle girl, and you--you're an unnatural mother. Why, I neversuspected you were even married."
"I'm a widow, Josie."
"And Old Swallowtail is your father? How strange. But--why did you comehere just now?" with sudden suspicion.
"I've just finished the Hillyard case and they gave me a vacation. So Icame here to see my little girl. I didn't know she was being neglected,Josie. I shall take better care of her after this. My visit to Cragg'sCrossing is perfectly natural, for I was born here. But you? What areyou up to, Josie?"
"I'm visiting Mary Louise Burrows."
"With what object?"
A detective must be quick-witted. Josie's brain was working withlightning-like rapidity. In a few brief seconds she comprehended thatif Nan was Old Swallowt
ail's daughter, home on a vacation, she must notbe allowed to know that Josie was conducting a case against her father.Otherwise she might interfere and spoil everything. She knew Nan of oldand respected her keen intelligence. Once, when they had been pittedagainst each other, Josie had won; but she was not sure she coulddefeat Nan a second time. Therefore it was imperative that old Cragg'sdaughter remain in ignorance of the fact that Josie was awaitingreinforcements from Washington in order to arrest Nan's father as acounterfeiter. Also Josie realized instantly that Ingua was likely totell her mother all she knew about Joselyn, including the story she hadtold Josie; so, without hesitation she answered Nan's question withapparent frankness:
"Really, Nan, I came here on a wild-goose chase. A man named NedJoselyn had mysteriously disappeared and his wife feared he had metwith foul play. I traced him to this place and as Colonel Hathaway andMary Louise were living here--in Mrs. Joselyn's own house, by the way--I had myself invited as their guest. Well, the long and short of it isthat Joselyn isn't murdered, after all. He simply skipped, and since Icame here to worry my poor brain over the fellow he has beendiscovered, still in hiding but very much alive."
"You suspected my father of killing him?"
"I did; and so did others; but it seems he didn't. But, even with thatprecious bubble burst, Mary Louise insists on my staying for a visit;so here I am, and your little girl has become my friend."
Ingua knew this story to be quite correct, as far as it regarded hergrandfather and Ned Joselyn. Its straightforward relation renewed herconfidence in Josie. But Nan knew more than Josie thought she did,having intercepted the girl's telegram to her father; so she said witha slight sneer which she took no pains to conceal:
"You're a clever girl, Josie O'Gorman; a mighty clever girl. You're soclever that I wouldn't be surprised if it tripped you, some day, andlanded you on your pug nose."
Which proved that Nan was _not_ clever, for Josie's indulgent smilemasked the thought: "She knows all and is here to defend her father. Imust look out for Nan, for she has a notion I'm still on the track ofHezekiah Cragg."